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My little buddy Rocco suffers through New Year's Eve. Lancaster has a midnight fireworks show atop a parking garage a block or so away from our home. We usually sit out front and watch it explode above us - adult beverages in hand. Unfortunately my fuzzy guy is NOT a hunter. He's been bread to be a watch dog, suspicious of the odd noise. He suffers from fireworks overload. Which leaves him an exhausted fur ball. And maybe that' the best metaphor for 2010, it's left us... thank Zeus... exhausted with a "Good Riddance!" taste. Like Rocco... I'm tired of it and looking forward to awaking in 2011.
Wish you a mellow one.
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